The Heart of the Matter
by CardinalPerch
Summary: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 7 FINALE. A week after JJ's wedding, Morgan and Prentiss have a heart-to-heart conversation about her decision to leave the team. M/P, but no romance. Follows CM cannon. Mild language. ONESHOT.


_So, I'm bouncing ideas around for a multi-chapter case fic, but I'm a little burnt out after recently finishing my first multi-chapter. I thought I'd write a few nice little one-shots before getting to bogged down in anything else. _

_This is a conversation between Morgan and Prentiss that takes place after the Season 7 finale. I just thought it'd be nice to flesh out some of the issues that I think still linger between them. It follows CM cannon. Spoilers for the Season 7 finale, and references to 2x12 (Profiler, Profiled), 4x03 (Minimal Loss), 5x11 (Retaliation), 6x17 (Valhalla), 6x18 (Lauren), 7x03 (Dorado Falls), 7x06 (Epilogue), and 7x15 (A Thin Line). Hope you enjoy. Please review if you are so inclined!_

_Of course, I don't own Criminal Minds or any of the characters._

Emily pressed the ceramic mug against her lips and took a sip from her steaming café mocha. She had completely abandoned her attempt to quit caffeine. The hours at the BAU rendered the stimulant a necessary evil. Plus, the whole point of quitting caffeine was to try and relax more. By now, Emily was resigned to the fact that she most likely would never be able to completely relax again. Though she thought she did a pretty darn good job of remaining outwardly calm over the past eight months or so, inside she was constantly restless and hyper vigilant. Besides, caffeine was an ingredient of chocolate, and although Emily had changed quite a bit over the past year, she still loved chocolate as much as ever.

As she sipped her coffee, Emily surveyed her surroundings and waited for Morgan to arrive. It was Saturday, six days after JJ's wedding. Emily had already told the team about her decision to leave the BAU to head up Interpol's London Office. She discussed it with Hotch early Monday morning and gave Strauss her two weeks notice before delivering the news to the rest of the team. She and Hotch agreed it was best for the team to hear the news together, though Morgan of course already knew.

Their reactions had been much like Emily predicted. Hotch, JJ (who was finishing up some paperwork before leaving on her honeymoon), and Rossi were all sad to see her go, but supportive. Hotch and JJ both knew better than anybody else on the team what Emily had gone through in the past year. Rossi too had seen the writing on the wall; he'd always been able to read Emily fairly well. Garcia was both angry and upset. She tried chewing Emily out for about 30 seconds before she broke down sobbing and pulled Emily into a suffocating embrace. Reid had been shocked and hurt, and perhaps a bit angry. Yet to Emily's relief both Garcia and Reid had come around throughout the week. She worked tirelessly to make this happen, assuring them that she would, of course, come home and visit when she could and call them regularly. In other words, she reminded them that this wouldn't be like last time, although she avoided using this exact phrase. Nobody wanted to talk about last time, Emily least of all.

Emily could tell Morgan was reeling but he remained supportive. He was not, however, willing to let her go without having a discussion about it. She promised to meet him for a long talk over the weekend. She felt she owed him that.

It had been his idea to meet here, at the outdoor tables of a coffee shop in DuPont Circle. Emily suspected that this was his last-ditch effort to get her to change her mind. He hoped that she would fall back in love with the town house down the street, buy it, and stay at the FBI. That wasn't going to happen. Emily knew Morgan was aware of this. She was both saddened and amused by his refusal to give up. She wasn't particularly looking forward to the conversation. She knew Morgan would interrogate her thoroughly and re-open some wounds that she preferred to leave closed. As she watched the passersby and continued to wait, she began absentmindedly picking at her fingernails.

"You know, you really shouldn't do that, Prentiss," Morgan's voice sounded from behind her.

She chuckled softly.

"Good morning to you too," she said. "You're late."

"That's okay," he said, settling into a chair directly across from her. "It's a beautiful day outside and I have all the time in the world. And so do you."

She responded with a half smile as he ordered an Americano from a passing waiter. After the man returned with his drink, Morgan leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. He was ready to get some answers.

"So," he said matter-of-factly, "why are you leaving?"

Emily sighed and raised her eyebrows.

"You know the answer to that, Morgan. I already told you. I'm just not happy anymore. I can't just waltz back into my life and pretend that the last year and a half didn't happen, that nothing changed. Something did happen. Everything changed."

"Everything didn't change, Prentiss," Morgan interrupted. "Emily, you're here. We all love you and care about you. The team is functioning as well as ever, including you. You've been as sharp in the field and as a profiler as you've always been."

"Really?" she scoffed, "because just a few months ago you tried to con me into believing that I needed extra takedown and arrest procedure training. You're a really bad liar, by the way."

Frustrated by her reaction, Morgan shut his eyes for a moment before responding.

"And I told you, that was all about me, not you. I shouldn't have lied to you. It was just the only way I could think of to stop myself from worrying so much about you too much in the field."

"You _still_ worry about me too much," she replied, thinking back to the case of the brainwashed, racist unsub in California and her still occasionally sore left arm. "You freaked out after Mills shot me in California."

"Yeah, Emily he _shot you_. I always worry when any of the team gets hurt. You just tend to do it with alarming frequency."

"You always worry, but you don't always blame yourself. You worried about me after Cyrus but you didn't beat yourself up for it. You worried after the car accident with Schroeder but you didn't carry around a load of guilt. Those were both a lot worse than a little hole in the arm. You only started feeling guilty after Doyle. Things aren't the same."

"No," he said sighing. "You're right. They're not."

Morgan leaned back in his chair, coffee mug firmly in hand, and studied his friend carefully. Prentiss took another sip from her own mug and then began fidgeting with the buttons on the sleeve of her white button-up blouse. Anything to avoid picking or biting her nails again.

"Speaking of things not being the same," he changed the subject, "how the hell did you fool that therapist into clearing you for duty?"

"What?" Emily replied, clearly taken aback. "Have you been talking to Hotch?"

"Oh come on Emily. Hotch is a stickler for protocol. You know there's no way in hell he'd commit a violation as severe as sharing an agent's psych evaluation. I didn't need to talk to Hotch. You have changed. I didn't really notice it before because I was too paranoid about your physical safety, but I've been thinking about a lot over the past week. You hardly ever smile anymore. Even when you do it never fills up your face like it used to, your eyes always look distant. You used to be the snarkiest person I knew and now all I get are occasional half-hearted jabs. I never hear you laugh anymore. You're not just unhappy Emily, you're depressed. There's no way any halfway qualified doctor would've cleared you to return to full duty."

"I told her what I needed her to hear," Emily replied, refusing to meet Morgan's gaze. Her partner had cut closer to the truth than even Hotch had, and that made Emily feel unusually vulnerable. She hated nothing more than the feeling of vulnerability. She wasn't about to break down in front of Morgan.

"And she believed you?" he asked skeptically.

"I was an undercover agent for years, Morgan. I'm good at getting people to believe what I want them to," she said bitterly, with more than a hint of self-loathing.

"So," Morgan prompted. "What didn't you tell her?"

Here it was, Emily thought, the real question Morgan wanted to ask. He wanted to know her real psychological state, what had really been going through her mind for the past eight months. It was a pointless effort. He couldn't possibly understand how she felt, what she'd been through, just as she would never be able to understand the horror he'd been through as a kid. Even if he could understand, Emily wasn't sure just how much she wanted him to know. She settled on telling the truth but in general terms.

"Well, I told her that I talked to my mother. I haven't spoken so my mother since before all of this happened. I mean, if she can't even bother to show up at my funeral, why even make the effort?" she said matter-of-factly.

Morgan eyes filled with great sadness at this comment. He had always had a strong relationship with his mother and sisters. He couldn't imagine life without being close to them. Ambassador Prentiss had always put Emily second to her career. It broke Morgan's heart that Prentiss, one of the most caring and compassionate persons he knew, had a family that didn't even care enough to properly mourn her passing. The fact that Emily nonchalantly accepted this as par-for-the-course only deepened his sadness.

"I told her that I barely have nightmares anymore," Emily continued. "The truth is I still have them all the time. Heck, I even occasionally had nightmares about Doyle before he escaped from prison. That's why I rarely allowed myself to fall asleep on the jet. I didn't want to have to explain those away. Now almost every time I close my eyes he's about to kill me, or Declan, or you, or somebody else on the team."

"And you really think that moving to London is going to make you feel any better?"

"Will it make the nightmares stop? Probably not," Prentiss admitted. "But at least there I'll be able to talk about it a little more there. I'll be working most directly with Clyde…"

"I thought you said it wasn't about Easter!" Morgan interrupted hurriedly.

"It isn't," she replied, trying to reassure him. "I really had been thinking about leaving since the day I got back. I honestly wasn't expecting to be offered my spot back on the team. I rushed into the decision and figured out right away it was the wrong one. I didn't give myself enough time to my head screwed back on straight, or at least as straight as it will go anymore. I just jumped right back in, and I jumped into the worst environment possible. Every day when I see you guys I'm reminded of all of the pain and mistrust this all caused. I notice the way you look at me like I might disappear at any moment. The guilt is suffocating. And I didn't feel like I could talk to anybody about it because that would just bring up more painful memories. It was a vicious cycle. On top of that there were the cases themselves. They're not any worse than before, but I just see them so much differently now because I know what it's like to be hunted. Hell, I know what it's like to _die_. At least for about 40 seconds or so."

Morgan opened his mouth to reply then quickly shut it. He was at a loss for words. He hadn't known that she coded in the ambulance until she brought it up during a case a few months ago. It was clear that her brief experience with death – marked by cold and darkness – deeply disturbed her. But because she was Emily Prentiss, she didn't want to talk about it, and Morgan didn't push the issue. Yet here it was again, a cold hard fact that slapped him right in the face. Emily had died. Even if just for a moment, she died. And Derek feared that a part of her – the part that once knew how to laugh and be happy – didn't come back. He thought about reaching out to pat her hand or rub her arm – that's what she would do for him – but thought better of it. She might shrink away, and he had finally gotten her to open up at least a little bit. He didn't want to risk having her shut down. So they sat in silence until Morgan could no longer suppress the question that burned within him.

"I still don't understand how going back to Interpol is going to make this any better. I mean, you're going back to where it all started."

"Not really," she said. "It's not like I'm going back undercover. I'm running a gateway office. Besides, Easter is the one person I can actually talk to about this. He and I are the only members of our team still alive. If there's anybody who can even begin to understand this, it's him. Plus, I can talk to him about some of the things that bother me from the original case. He's the only other person who knows about it."

"You could talk to me about it Prentiss. I'm all ears."

"I know you are, but I can't. When I joined the CIA I took an oath. Part of that oath was a promise not to disclose any classified information to anybody besides my superiors and team members. As far as I know, the Doyle case is still classified. I can't tell you anymore about it then you already know. I'm sorry," she said bluntly - the old secretive Interpol agent in her rearing its head once more.

"Emily, you're seriously going to pull that on me?" Derek asked, perplexed. "You're not in the CIA anymore. And for God's sake, it's _me _Emily."

"I can't. I know I can't make you understand, but you just don't break an oath like that. Your status as CIA follows you for life. It supersedes everything else, even my status as FBI. It sucks, but sometimes it comes in handy. Why else do you think Strauss was able to just me my job back instead of having me arrested? I must have broken about a dozen laws when I went after Doyle."

"Yeah, at least," Morgan said. "So you're really sure about this?"

"Positive," Emily replied, looking apologetic yet adamant. "Like I said, I've been thinking about this for awhile now. I even considered looking for other positions in the Bureau. Then this opportunity came up. It just seems right. I can start to turn the page on all of this while still working with somebody I know and can trust – at least as much as you can trust anybody in the international policing business," she added darkly. "This isn't just a good decision for me. It's a good decision for all of us."

"How can this be a good decision for all of us, Emily?" Morgan replied incredulously. "How will you leaving again going to make things any better for the rest of us."

"I'm not the only one who has changed because of all this, Morgan. I see it in your face. Almost every time I'm around you, you won't stop staring at me, because you're afraid that if you look away I won't be there when you look back. It's the same with the others. Garcia has probably been tracking my phone and credit card for the last eight months. And I get it, I do. But it's draining. For all of us. We're never going to get past this until we can step away for a bit and then come back and talk to each other honestly. And we're never going to be able to do that when we have to worry about how it might affect us in the field. As long as I'm on the team, we're never going to be able to work through this. It'll eat us alive. It's already started to."

Yet again, Morgan was at a loss for words. Emily was one hell of a profiler, that was for sure. She was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He was afraid to look away from her for very long. The last time he had, she had vanished into thin air and by the time he found her she was bleeding to death on a damp floor in Boston. They did need some time to step back and work through some issues, and that couldn't happen while they were both focused on taking down an unsub. But he still wasn't ready to say goodbye to her again. And London. Why did she have to go all the way to London?

"Besides," Prentiss interrupted his thought process, "it _is _a pretty big promotion."

Morgan couldn't help but smirk. He knew Emily Prentiss had never cared much about climbing the career ladder. If that had been the case, she could have easily left the BAU for greener pastures and a bigger paycheck a long time ago. She was just trying to make him feel better by changing the subject. He decided to play along.

"Yeah, now you get to be the Erin Strauss of England," he jabbed.

"Oh buddy, you better take that one back right now," she threatened jokingly, flashing the first real smile Morgan had seen on her face in over a year.

"Do you think you'll still get out in the field any?" he asked.

"Oh I'll definitely find a way. God forbid my life be too safe and normal. I wouldn't know what to do."

Morgan paused.

"You know I'm going to miss you like crazy, right Prentiss?"

"I'll miss you too. So much. I told you the other night, I love you guys. And I meant it. I always will."

"You better call, a lot," Morgan lectured. "And you have to come see us, at least a couple times a year. You're spending Christmas in DC, do you hear that?"

"It's a deal."

"You're damn right it is. If you don't show up I will have Baby Girl work her magic powers and put me on the first available flight to London to come find you."

"Hah, I don't doubt it."

A silence fell between them again, but for the first time in ages this one was marked not by uncomfortable tension but an unspoken contentment. There were still unresolved issues and parting would still be painful, but for now they had both said what they needed to say and things seemed to at last be on the mend. Neither one was ready to leave.

"You know, Prentiss," Morgain said, glancing at his now-empty mug, "I think I could use another cup. How about you?"

"Definitely."

_Hope you enjoyed. I'm still pretty new to this whole fanfic thing (and fiction writing in general), so your feedback is appreciated!_


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